Cherie
by darasun
Summary: Cherie was rich. Beautiful. Wanted. But all she wanted was to love him...and all he could do was love someone else. TRORY


Cherie Simonington was rich. 

She was beautiful. 

She was popular. 

But after all that and all this, it accounted to nothing. 

The first time she saw him, she had never felt so at a loss. 

His blue eyes met hers briefly and Cherie felt her heart seize like she always hoped it would. 

He gave that sly smirk which she dreamed about for nights afterwards. 

She didn't know his name, who he was, what his family's name was, but nothing mattered. 

Her friend nudged her.

"What are you looking at?" 

Cherie shook herself out of the stupor and regained her composure. "Nothing." 

She glanced back quickly to where he had been standing, but he was gone. 

And for some reason, Cherie felt his smirk still lingered there.

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When Cherie Simonington went to camp.

It sounded like a bad children's book. 

But it happened. 

Two weeks of hell. 

Packing, unpacking it was all so overrated. 

Experience of a lifetime? She had her doubts.

She sat there as her friends chatted around her, pawing at her food disdainfully.

She got a tingling sensation before he even said anything.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you not to play with your food?" He whispered, so near her ear.

She tried hard not to gulp. "Must have mistaken it for prey." She answered as boldly as she dared.

She could feel the smirk, as she swivelled around her chair to face him slowly. 

God, he was beautiful.

"Tristan Dugrey." He introduced.

She breathed in his name. "Cherie."

He raised an eyebrow expectantly. 

She licked her lips and eyed him none-too-subtly. "You're going to have to work for the last name."

He blinked at her lazily. "I like a girl who knows what she wants."

She could only drink in the messy blond hair, swollen lips and murky blue eyes with something of wonderment, how deep did that blue go until she drowned?

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She spent the next day with him, for the most part anyway. 

And when he wasn't there, she thought of him longingly and when he was she couldn't remember anything else. 

They skipped the days planned activities and decided to go exploring in the woods. 

Why didn't she have her legendary cool now?

He grinned mischievously at her. 

She felt her heart actually flutter at the look. 

"What?" She asked self-consciously……..she felt like she was in junior high again, in love with the senior football captain…….of course, she had been a bit older than that, and she had gotten bored of him within two weeks.

"Oh, nothing." He ducked his head, and ran a hand through his hair. 

He met her eyes and Cherie smiled shyly.

"What?" She chuckled, playing with the hem of her top.

"Close your eyes," He told her softly, "And count to three."

This surge of happiness overwhelmed her. 

She closed her eyes and pouted. "One…….two…….three……." She peeked open a green eye expectantly.

A pair of arms wrapped themselves around her waist as she could dizzily smell his after-shave. 

He tucked a wildflower behind her ear and nuzzled her neck. 

His hair tickling her. 

She closed her eyes, relishing this moment. 

They had laughed, pranced around, explored, not much talking but Cherie didn't mind, they had kissed – a lot. 

That was a fair exchange, she thought cheekily. 

It was getting cold. He handed his jacket to her automatically when she shivered. 

She took it from him gratefully. 

She bit her lip, deliberately coy. "How ever will I thank you?"

She put on the jacket; it was soft and smelled of tobacco and peppermint. 

She light-headedly inhaled it. 

He smirked at her; she suddenly wished she could put that smirk into her pocket. 

It was positively dangerous. "Oh, I'll think of something." 

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Cherie could only laugh. 

In delight. 

In him. 

In how scary her feelings were already. 

He was suddenly startled. 

He glanced at his watch. "I've got to go somewhere."

She looked at him sadly. "Oh."

He placed a heated kiss on her lips. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Alright." She hated the small voice that came out as he waved and hurried off to where ever he was going. 

But then she could only think of tomorrow, and tomorrow…….and tomorrow…….

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Cherie Simonington was in love. 

She had never felt so elated in her life. 

It had been almost two weeks since she had met him, and the countdown was something of a mystery to Cherie. 

She couldn't even remember yesterday. 

All she could remember was him, and his lips on hers and how marvellous it was that his hair was as soft as it looked? 

She walked in the cafeteria for lunch. 

She spotted Tristan instantly, he was too gorgeous to miss, she thought giddily. 

He was talking to a girl. 

Cherie stiffened. 

And he was smiling. 

Not smirking, not leering, not grinning…….smiling. 

She caught some of their conversation. "…….Insanity does not look good on Harvard applications……." He said in a sing-song voice.

The girl snorted. "You're the only one stupid enough to actually include it," She shook her head and put on a voice, "I'm captain of the football team, basketball team, swimming team……and oh, have I mentioned I'm mentally unstable and need tranquilizers administered every few hours?" 

He laughed, his blue eyes twinkling. "You know, M-"

He stopped, spotting Cherie. 

She gave him a smile and continued to sit on a lone table as if she hadn't noticed.

He came striding over a few minutes later.

"Tristan, I-"

He kissed her, his warm lips really ending her sentence.

"Who was t-" He kissed her again, his kiss so full of promise she felt as if she was melting.

She sighed insufferably. "What am I going to do with you?" 

He let her finish before he kissed her again and Cherie stared into his blue eyes, and they stared innocently back.

"Cherie," He said, pronouncing in exaggeratingly French, "For starters you could kiss me back?"

And she did just that.

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He was nipping at her ear. She could only sigh in content. It was beginning to get dark and the small gusts of wind made Cherie want to cry. 

He stopped and tilted his head to look at her. 

He gave her an expectant look, his eyes soft as they assessed her.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. 

He smirked and kissed her again. 

His hair was tickling her face and she wiggled her nose around. She sighed again, staring at the tree blowing in the distance. 

"I love you." She murmured.

He stopped and looked at her again. 

Cherie was afraid she'd said the wrong thing. 

But then he gave her that look, that look that always managed to warm her up, and he kissed her lips as she threaded her hands through his feathery hair. 

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"Tristan." She called softly, hunting around the playground that they usually met at, the area was surrounded by thicket and was lush and private. 

"Tri-" She stopped in her tracks.

For a moment she couldn't even grasp what she was seeing, he wouldn't do that to her. 

Not him, the wonderful seventeen year old boy that the untouchable Cherie Simonington had finally given her heart. 

Her eyes started watering, and god…….was it raining?

Everything was so damn blurry, she almost stumbled in her haste to leave with even a bit of dignity intact.

She licked her lips and realised how dry they were all of a sudden. 

Then, oh god, the sadness came. 

The inevitable sadness. 

Wave after wave until Cherie was left practically gasping. 

But Cherie Simonington was rich. 

She was beautiful. 

She was popular. 

And she had never had a boy break her so. 

And she never would. 

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He was waiting for her at the playground. 

On a lone swing, the scraping of the metal and the patient shuffling of his feet the only sounds that hung in the evening.

"Cherie." He smirked at her, and for a terrible instant, Cherie knew how much of a lie it was. 

She never had his heart; never had it belonged to her. 

How foolish she had been.

"What's the matter?" He asked, the genuine concerned tone in his voice absolutely unnerving to her.

Cherie felt like she couldn't move. 

"Do you love her?" She asked, ashamed at how shaky her voice came out.

His brow furrowed and those beautiful eyes darkened for a second, he looked unsure to answer.

Cherie repeated the question, her voice chalky and so horribly meek for the ice queen Cherie. 

He considered. 

Cherie thought he was going to lie to her but then his eyes turned soft, and a smile played on his lips. 

He nodded wordlessly.

Cherie nodded too and wearily moved to walk away.

"Cherie," He hesitated slightly, "I'm sorry."

She shut her eyes and willed the tears to be at bay. 

She turned around and was bold, just like when they first met.

"Don't kid yourself, Tristan. After all, this was just a game."

Her voice hitched on the last word and she prayed he hadn't noticed. 

He didn't.

Cherie Simonington walked on.

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She saw them late the next day. 

When all the campers were meant to be sleeping. 

Cherie had had a bad day, everyone was commenting. 

Who cared? 

After a silent meal, she had taken a walk to clear her head. 

She rounded a corner and instantly wanted to go back. 

His arm was around shoulders and her head was in the crook of his neck. 

He kissed the brown hair affectionately. 

Cherie was so close to them she thought they'd bound to have noticed her. 

They didn't. 

Cherie actually felt her heart pang at the sight.

The petite girl mumbled something. 

Tristan smiled the way Cherie had always hoped to remember, the way she realised he had never did with her.

"I love you too, Mary." He whispered back.

Cherie gave a faint smile at this and wandered rather aimlessly back to her room. 


End file.
